


Wandering Between Worlds

by writingramblr



Category: Mad Men
Genre: Canon Speculation, Guardian Angels, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Introspection, Predictions, Reflection, Spirit Guide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 20:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3909181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meredith was always someone Don could count on. Now, in his darkest hour, she's still there.<br/>But unfortunately, things aren't as they seem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wandering Between Worlds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoodJanet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodJanet/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Moving On](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3892861) by [GoodJanet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodJanet/pseuds/GoodJanet). 



> Ouch i hurt my own heart writing this.  
> I so don't want things to go this way.  
> I'm also a shameless shipper of Meredith/Don, but that's not important.  
> It is the reason she's his guardian angel/escort out of the earth realm.
> 
>  
> 
> I was also inspired by a certain other author. (p.s. i love your stuff)

“Mister Draper? Mister Draper? Are you in there? _Don!?_ ”

There’s a shrieking noise in addition to the pounding in his head, and he knows exactly who that belongs to. The fist and the voice.

“It’s Meredith. Please unlock this door!”

 

She’s never called him Don before, it’s almost sweet how she gets worried.

He sighs.

He can’t believe he didn’t go through with it.

Now he’s stuck still in living hell, and he’s going to have to explain to her why he left her the apartment that she thought she was decorating for him.

“Hold on. I’m coming.”

He calls out, and she falls silent.

The pounding stops.

His arms feel tired, and when he stands up from the couch suddenly he feels dizzy.

The alcohol, he supposes.

When he pulls open the door, it’s only a split second until he has an armful of worried blonde.

She’s not shrieking at him anymore, she’s babbling in clear relief that he’s still alive.

That’s the gist he gets.

“Meredith! Calm down. I’m fine. Clearly.”

She’s shaking in his arms, and her head looks up at him, eyes wide with tears, smudged mascara and liner, and wobbly lower lip.

“You were so quiet in here, and for so long, you skipped lunch and didn’t take any calls…I was very concerned.”

Don actually smiles down at her.

“That’s because I was taking a nap. You’re kind to worry.”

He lets go of her with one arm, holds it up for her inspection, and she frowns slightly.

“See? I’m fine sweetheart. Now go on back to your desk. I’ve got some phone calls to return.”

Meredith shakes her head,

“Not a chance. I’m not leaving you alone.”

He notes how she doesn’t chastise him for the endearment, and he realizes he means it. She’s _every bit_ a sweetheart, and how he wishes he’d known someone like her two decades back.

Betty might have once been able to be like her, but then again, she has her own inherent sweetness, but it’s in a much shorter supply, and never directed at him.

“You’re going to do what then? Stand in the doorway and eavesdrop over every call?”

He’s grinning now, and she doesn’t look moved at all. He’s teasing her, and she’s not having it.

“If I have to.”

He reaches up a heavy hand and strokes her cheek, wiping away a stray fallen tear, and he sighs.

“You should at least go check your compact mirror. You’ve messed up your makeup a bit.”

Meredith’s lip is still wobbly, but her jaw is set,

“It’s not important. You are. Besides, nothing important is ruined.”

He’s been staring. At the perfect pink pout she has.

It’s so stupid, but all this time he’s been around her, and never really noticed, she’s gorgeous.

“You’re right. Your hair is perfect.”

That’s what he touches next, and he swears she shivers in his arms as his fingers gently trace the curved shape of her precise curl, that dips beneath her ear and meets her shoulder in a wave of gold.

Finally, there’s a hint of a smile, but it’s sad, so sad, like she’s just watched footage from a war.

“I was wondering when you’d notice. It only takes me an hour and a half.”

Don’s eyes are surely wide at that, but she says nothing more about herself.

She’s still flush to him and he steps back the instant he notices.

“So, about the calls. Did anyone leave a message?”

He walks back over to his desk, and sits heavily in his chair, plucking the receiver from the cradle and waiting for her reply.

She’s still shaking, and he can’t understand why.

More tears are falling now.

“Well, yes. Joan Holloway called. She wanted to tell you she’s free for lunch any day this week if you are.”

Don smiles.

“That’s great. Put her on my calendar tomorrow. Cancel anything that interferes. Next?”

Meredith looks down at her shoes, but it doesn’t hide the fact she’s still crying.

“Roger wanted to meet with you to discuss his bare walls. He says he needs your advice on a new set of paintings he ordered from uh, your ex wife’s mother.”

Don groans at that, and shakes his head,

“Tell him he’s on his own. But I’d love to see the place when he’s done.”

Meredith nods,

“Of course.”

Don looks back up at her,

“What about Peggy? Did she call or come by while I was gone?”

Meredith shakes her head, and suddenly steps closer to his desk,

“No. She didn’t. But I think if she’d known…she would have.”

Don frowns,

“Known what?”

She finally looks up at him, and he’s startled at the change in her expression.

It’s like nothing he’s ever seen.

Pity mixed with regret, and a hint of despair.

Meredith, bubbly, sometimes a tad annoying, but usually always positive, Meredith is like her spirit has been stolen.

“You’re dead Don. This isn’t real. It’s a dream, a distraction. You’ll wake up soon, in the next life. In the next world.”

He’s completely lost now.

“What on earth are you talking about?”

She smiles, and it nearly tears his heart out how beautiful it makes her look.

“You didn’t fail. You drank the whole bottle, and you pushed that window open, and jumped. For a few stories, you flew. But that’s a one way trip.”

Horror grips him, icy tendrils begin to creep through his veins to his heart, washing away the fond warmth he felt for her moments ago.

“No.”

She nods, and that perfect golden coiffure doesn’t move an inch.

“I’m sorry Don. I couldn’t save you. No one could.”

He gets up from his chair, feeling the fatigue like never before, and it all makes more sense now.

“But those messages, people who called?”

Meredith nods,

“That’s their final words from your funeral. Joan said she would have had lunch with you every day. Roger said he’d have dropped that French spider in a heartbeat if you’d asked. Peggy regretted not seeing you before you left. But you wrote a note. You left the ring for her. It fit perfectly.”

Don blinks, and the room spins, growing fuzzier and brighter by the second.

“Were you jealous?”

Meredith shakes her head,

“You left me your apartment, remember?”

“Of course. I’m sorry. Does it matter? That I mean it?”

Meredith is at his side in an instant when he begins to fall backwards, and before his head hits the ground, it’s in her lap.

She’s stroking a hand through his hair as his eyelids grow heavy.

“You meant every word you ever said. You just didn’t know it. I loved you, you know. They all did. Every one of them. Even Pete.”

A smile starts to twitch at the thought of Campbell, but Don’s much too tired to follow through.

Just before his eyes shut, for the last time, before there’s an unknown dark abyss, he feels those cool lips kiss his forehead.

Lines soften and flatten, and Don Draper relaxes into the blissful sleep of eternity.

***

**END**


End file.
